


Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken

by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Biting, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Protective Eddie Diaz, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24762892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Summary: People like to flirt with Buck on calls. It kind of makes Buck uncomfortable.And that makes Eddie frustrated.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 78
Kudos: 1298





	Asked, Offered, Given, (He's) Taken

Buck is far from single.

He knows this. The entire 118 knows this. Everyone in his life knows this.

But strangers… don’t know this.

And so strangers will flirt with him.

And Eddie’s fine with it. Really. It’s not a big deal. Buck never flirts back, he’s polite, and Eddie knows he can trust Buck. Buck would never, ever cheat on him. But sometimes…

Sometimes he just wants them to back off.

Especially when it makes Buck uncomfortable. He’s just trying to work and do his damn job and someone’s trying to get his number and yeah Buck can shrug it off as much as the next person but he shouldn’t have to, and Eddie knows his boyfriend, he knows what that stiff shoulder roll and embarrassed hunch-over means, he knows when Buck’s smile is more discomfort than pleasure.

“Down, boy,” Buck murmurs as they climb back up into the truck.

Eddie forces himself to stop staring daggers at the ceiling. “You can always tell them to leave you alone, you know.”

“I want to be polite.”

Of course he does. Buck’s a golden retriever that was accidentally turned into a human, he’s programmed to be happy and to want to make the people around him happy. He just wishes people would be more… aware of the effect they’re actually having on him.

Buck doesn’t say anything else, so of course neither does Eddie. It’s Buck’s problem to handle, not his. But then they’re grabbing their stuff to leave the station at the end of shift and Buck says, “Is it wrong if I want you to get a little… possessive?”

Eddie nearly walks into the fire truck. “Oh?”

He’s trying for nonchalant, but judging by the way Buck flushes and ducks his head down, he’s failed.

“I want—I want people to know I’m taken. I want to get… marked up.”

They’ve made it out to the parking lot, to the jeep because they took Buck’s car into work today (part of him still can’t quite believe that Buck lives with him, that they’re a proper family and he gets to wake up next to Buck every day), and he can’t resist taking that extra step that traps Buck between him and the car.

“Is that so?” His voice is a growl.

Buck nods, swallowing, his eyes going big and dark. “Yeah.”

Eddie reaches up, brushes his thumb along Buck’s pulse point. “Right here, where everyone can see it?”

It’s too high up for his collar to hide it. Everyone would know Buck had someone, and not some random one night stand, either—someone confident enough to place that mark in the broad daylight.

Buck shivers all over, his lashes fluttering. “Yeah.”

“Hmm.” Eddie steps back. “I’ll think about it.”

Buck whines.

The drive home is torture—for Buck as well as him, Eddie’s sure. He wants to put his hands all over, to grab, to tease, to take. He wants to leave handprints all over Buck like he’s finger painting. And Buck… well. Buck’s obvious in the way he squirms during red lights, the heated glances he keeps sending Eddie’s way, how he runs his tongue over his bottom lip and then bites down, tugs his lip into his mouth, sucks on it lightly. Like he’s imitating what he knows Eddie will do to him once they get home.

Oh, he’s asking for it.

They park the car and are barely inside when Eddie grabs Buck by the shoulders, pinning him to the wall and kicking the front door closed behind them. Buck arches, cranes his head back, practically puts himself on display. It’s fucking intoxicating.

Eddie noses at the soft skin of Buck’s throat. “You want this?”

He scrapes his teeth ever-so-lightly over the skin, not enough to do anything, just enough for Buck to feel it. Buck moans.

All of the frustration he’s been feeling is spilling over, filling him up, intoxicating him until his head is swimming. He wants to _claim._

He doesn’t even recognize the timber of his voice as he speaks, the words sounding like they belong to a wolf, a feral animal. “You want me to show everyone you’re _mine?_ ”

“Fuck yes.” Buck’s voice is barely there, it’s more an exhalation than anything, and the look he gives Eddie under his lashes is dark and hungry.

“And why is that?” he asks, leaning in. He’s rather unfair about it, though, finally sinking his teeth into Buck’s neck before Buck can respond.

Buck makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat and grabs onto Eddie’s arms, his fingers twisting the fabric of Eddie’s shirt. He sucks hard, then soothes the spot with his tongue, nips at it again, just to be sure, giving that last, pleasurable little sting that makes Buck jolt against him.

“Why’s that?” he repeats, moving up higher, to Buck’s jaw, giving him another mark just below the curve of it, the kind that you would only be able to see in a certain light, when Buck moved his head just so. “Why do you want me to show everyone? Why do I get to mark you and not anyone else?”

It takes Buck a moment, but Eddie can feel the second it clicks. “Because I’m yours.”

“Sorry, what was that?” He’s being a tease, he knows it, but Buck’s given him free reign to be as possessive as he wants and he can’t stop himself.

“Jesus Christ if I’d known you would be—oh fuck.” Buck’s sentence derails as Eddie yanks the collar of his shirt down to mouth at the hollow of his throat, giving him a third mark. “I’m yours, shit, fuck, I’m all yours, ‘s why—why I want you to—oh for fuck’s sake.”

Buck’s swearing probably has something to do with the fact that Eddie’s pulled away, grabbing Buck’s hips to still him so he can’t grind against Eddie, several inches now separating them.

“Eddie—Eddie c’mon.” Buck gives his best puppy eyes, drawing his hands down to Eddie’s waist, toying with the hem of Eddie’s jeans.

Unfortunately for Buck, out of the two of them, Eddie’s got more patience. As tempting and sexy as a playful, pouty Buck might be.

“You said you wanted me to mark you up.” He knows he’s got a smirk on his face but he can’t help it. “You never said anything about getting you off.”

Buck tugs at him, and in a contest of strength, they’re honestly evenly matched, so Eddie couldn’t say who’d win. But he wants Buck—wants him so badly his teeth ache with it—and so he steps back in, lets Buck tug him into place.

Buck starts to lean in to kiss him, but Eddie leans back. “Ah. Not yet.”

“Oh come _on…_ ”

“Not. Until. I’m done with you.” He tugs Buck’s shirt up and over his head. “And I am far from done with you.”

Buck shudders from head to toe, and that gives Eddie delight like nothing else in the fucking world. He tips his head, contemplating, as Buck visibly tries not to squirm. Where next?

At last he decides the element of surprise is fun, and he drops to his knees, fitting his teeth around Buck’s hipbone. The _noise_ that escapes Buck is pure desperation and Eddie burns from the inside out, sucking hard and merciless, teasing the delicate skin until a large red-and-purple mark blooms under his lips.

Not that anyone will necessarily see these marks but you never know when Buck’s shirt might ride up or something. And Buck will know they’re there. That’s more important than someone seeing them—Buck feeling those tender spots under his shirt, knowing that the ones on his neck are just the tip of the iceberg.

He moves up, nipping at Buck’s stomach, leaving small red marks all the way up until he gets to Buck’s chest. Buck moans as he swirls his tongue around Buck’s nipple and then sucks hard, once, before pulling away and lapping at it, then repeating the process. His stomach is pressed right up between Buck’s legs and he can feel how hard Buck is, each shift of their bodies a horrible tease, but he’s not done just yet. He moves back down, sucks a few more spots into Buck’s stomach, and then bites down hard on Buck’s pectoral, just below his shoulder.

Buck tugs on Eddie’s hair with one hand (he’s been letting it grow out) and Eddie’s shirt with the other. “Eddie—Eddie _please_.”

Mmm. Buck does sound so pretty when he begs. Eddie stands back up all the way, putting them nose to nose, and takes Buck’s chin in his hands. Tilts Buck this way and that, inspecting his work.

Four large, unmistakable hickeys bloom large—on Buck’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone, and almost dead center on his throat. There are about ten more on his chest and stomach but most people won’t see those. They’re more like… insurance. Just in case.

And if nobody sees them, then that’s fine too. They’re just for Eddie, then, and for Buck. Every damn time Buck looks in the mirror or looks down at himself, he’ll know. Even without looking, just walking around, he’ll know they’re there.

That’s probably enough. For now.

Eddie steps in, pulling his own shirt off, and Buck lets out a groan of relief right before Eddie pins him to the wall again and kisses him.

Buck’s near-frantic, and Eddie has to coax him back into calmer waters, stroking his sides, kissing him slow and lingering. They’ve barely made it to second base and Buck’s already trembling. He gets like this, when Eddie teases him. It’s intoxicating—the fact that Eddie’s found someone who likes it when he’s growling and a little feral and a touch out of control. Someone who wants Eddie to get rough sometimes. It gets him going like nothing else to know that Buck’s turned on by him.

Once he’s lured Buck into a false sense of complacency—ah ha, that is, calmed Buck down—he hooks his fingers into Buck’s belt loops and drags him the few steps down the hall to the bedroom.

“You know you asked for this,” he points out as they strip off the rest of their clothes.

“You like me a little mouthy,” Buck replies, and, well, he’s right.

Doesn’t mean Eddie’s not gonna shove him in the chest so that Buck falls on his ass onto the bed.

He’s grinning as he straddles him, and Buck’s grinning right back, tugging him down to kiss him again. Eddie grinds their hips together, his cock sliding right up against Buck’s, and both of them shudder at it. Fuck. Just like that, all his patience is gone.

He rolls his hips a few more times, groans into Buck’s mouth at the pure rush of heat between his legs, but that’s not how he wants this to end. It’s tempting to just stick to frottage, to act like the horny teenagers they no longer are, but thanks to living with a kid they have to stick to that kind of thing more often than not anyways. This is a rare occasion with Christopher out of the house, no need to keep it quick or quiet, and he intends to take full advantage of that.

Eddie pulls away, sitting back on his knees, and twirls his finger around. “Up.”

Buck swallows hard, the marks on his throat shifting with the movement, and fuck, that is way hotter than Eddie thought it would be. Buck turns around, getting onto his hands and knees—and this is where the real fun can begin.

Because Eddie’s pretty sure Buck didn’t even think about the back of his neck.

The moment he fits his teeth around the base of Buck’s neck, the tendon right where it slopes to meet his shoulder, Buck moans like he’s about to come then and there. Eddie’s fingers sliding inside of him probably help with that, but Jesus Christ. He’s pretty sure there are men out there paid to do this that don’t make sounds like that.

He takes his time with this, too, with sucking two more marks into Buck’s neck, and a third into the back of his shoulder, moving slowly down Buck’s spine as he works him open. Buck’s swearing up a storm, and then he’s begging, and then he’s just whimpering as Eddie teases him. God, he looks and feels and sounds so fucking good.

There’s no way Eddie can hold on and keep it slow when he finally gives into Buck’s silent begging and fucks him. That first slide in has him sinking down all the way, right up until his hips are flush with Buck’s ass (an ass that now sports marks from Eddie’s teeth).

“Jesus Christ fucking _fuck_ me.” Buck’s words are trying to be biting but his tone is far too desperate for it to work. “You said I’m yours, fucking show me.”

Oh, those are dangerous words. Eddie growls and thrusts against Buck—not inside him, just against him—so that Buck can feel what he’s missing out on. “You like being mine?”

“You know it.”

“Well, if you’re mine, you know how to _behave_.”

Buck whines and pants, but Eddie starts to pull away again and he immediately caves. “Okay, okay, yes, please, please fuck me, please Eddie, please.”

Eddie kisses the mark at the back of Buck’s shoulder, standing out so dark and pretty against Buck’s pale skin. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

He returns to the mark on Buck’s neck as he thrusts in, hard, deep, fitting his teeth around the meat of him and holding on like it’s a lifeline. He fucks Buck right through his orgasm and into his own, careening towards it like a speeding train headed for a mountain, his foot on the gas pedal the entire time.

It feels more than good. It feels natural. Like he should always be doing this with Buck. He should always be joined with him like this.

Buck’s a shuddering, incoherent mess as Eddie releases him and pulls out. The mark on Buck’s neck is the most obvious and dark of all, indents laced by brilliant purple, right at the angle where it’ll peek out from his collar tomorrow.

If Eddie was a cat, he’d be purring.

“Feel free to do that any time you want,” Buck wheezes, collapsing onto the bed. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Eddie lands to his side, smiling, and just as he predicted, Buck nuzzles in for a kiss. This one’s soft and sweet. No bite to it at all. And that feral, content part of him is purring, _mine, mine, mine._

* * *

“Did you get mauled by a bear?” Chim asks the next day in the locker room.

“He likes to be called Eddie,” Buck shoots back.

Eddie ignores the jibe. He didn’t do this for the 118, after all.

As if the universe is trying to fuck with his head, they get several calls that day that feature young, attractive, definitely single people. But not one of them asks Buck for his number or tries to give him theirs. The moment they get close, Eddie can see their eyes widen and their mouths drop open a little. He can hear the way their sentences stutter to a halt.

It’s fantastic.

“You know, most people just buy their partner jewelry,” Hen comments later when they’re back at the station.

“At least he didn’t pee in a circle around him,” Chim mutters.

Buck flushes bright red and looks a little embarrassed—and Eddie knows, even if the rest of them don’t, that Buck asked for this. That Buck wanted it. Buck _started_ it. That every time someone began to flirt with him and quickly changed their tune upon seeing the marks, Buck flushed with pleasure and pride.

So Eddie reaches out, placing his hand on Buck’s shoulder, and gently presses down on the mark he knows is lurking underneath the fabric. Buck shivers oh so slightly.

“I dunno. I think you look pretty like this.”

Buck’s grin is pretty fucking gorgeous, and just a tad bit feral.

_Yours._


End file.
